Absolute Turmoil
by Mirilynx
Summary: Someone devised a wicked plot to free Turmoil from prisioin and give her Puma Dyne's new Aeromechs as her personal air force! Teaming up with ex KBI agent, Miriam Lynx, can the SWAT Kats find out who is behind the plot before Turmoil exacts her revenge ag
1. Prolouge

Absolute Turmoil-a SWAT Kats fanfiction

obligatory disclaimer: the SWAT Kats and subsequent characters that have appeared in the series are copyright to Hanna-Barbera...not me. However, Miriam Lynx and characters and situations that have NOT appeared in the series are all products of my overactive imagination. I've never been one for writing a fanfiction...however this one just seemed to spill out of me. It was simply my intention to capture the spirit of the series while giving it a bit of an "adult edge". This does not mean that there will be profanity, nudity or overt sexual situations...however the events and ensuing violence may require an adult maturity.

Prolouge

It had been too long since she had last tasted freedom. It was always said that in captivity, one would start to lose track of the days. Hours would run into hours, minutes into minutes and soon one wouldn't remember when they had lost their freedom. Of course now that her own freedom had been viciously taken from her, due to her own weakness for the wiles of a male pilot, she knew better. It had been one year, three months, fifteen days and this morning since the Megakat City justice department sentenced her to twenty years in prison and each second that ticked passed was maddening! Apparently, the katizens of the metropolis didn't take too kindly to her attempt to blackmail the city out of two million dollars in gold per week in order to use the air space around the bustling city.

For an added...incentive...to ensure the city's compliance, she had created what she called the "vertigo beam". When turned on a pilot he or she would become so overwhelmed with vertigo they would usually black out completely, causing their aircraft to tumble from the sky. She chuckled bitterly then, immersing herself once again in the flood of memories. It wasn't too long after her arrival in Megakat City that she had met her undoing...the SWAT Kats, and in particular, the pilot who was called T-Bone. Never before had she seen a pilot so skilled in manuvering an aircraft. She smiled wryly then, she always did have a soft spot for a kat who could fly...and fly well. Unfortunately, her heart had never brought her anything but trouble, especially in the case of that infernal SWAT Kat, T-Bone. While pretending to have willingly become her Flight Commander, T-Bone was merely using her to gain access to restricted parts of her aircraft so he could plant multiple explosives in order to take her down! She had been furious with him then, as she still was.

But then, there was that letter. Not long after her sentence she received an envelope with no return address on the label. Inside, she had found a letter written to her from T-Bone. The message was short and to the point. Simply stating that while partnering up with her might have been "tempting", it would never have worked due to the fact that he was a "good guy" and she was a "bad girl". As she reflected upon the words written to her, she knew that somehow, even after his betrayal, she was still in love with him. She grinned wryly, figures that she would still harbor feelings for the burly kat. After all, how often had she come across a male pilot who could out-fly her all female air force? Truth to be told, she never had.

Yet it was that those memories were just that...memories. She no longer possessed her air fortress, nor did she have her own personal air force at her beck-and-call. No, T-Bone and his partner saw to it that she lost those things along with her hopes of draining Megakat City of it's financial wealth.

The tall, curvatious she-kat was a vision even without makeup or jewelry. Possessed of long, silken brown hair with two naturally blonde streaks framing sensuously high cheekbones and a pair of piercing brown eyes, Natasha Malashenko sighed deeply. Natasha, or as she was more commonly known as Turmoil (a name which she preferred) lay on the bunk in her cell, starring at the ceiling, absently toying with the hem of her plain blue, prison-issue shirt that matched the equally plain pants.The rough, thick fabric was a far cry to the finery and pomp she was accustomed to. Some might even have said that her tastes might have even neared garish proportions. Turmoil thought differently. She enjoyed being female and loved dressing herself in clothes that would not only enhance her feminine figure, but also surround her with an aura of sexuality and power.

"Lights out, Malashenko!" A plump female guard spat as she passed by, dragging her billy club along the cell bars obnoxiously.

A smile began to pull at Turmoil's lips as the lights were cut off; instantly saturating the cell block's massive expanse in pitch blackness. For so long it seemed she had planned to escape from this hell made of stone and iron, called Atkatraz. However, she never experienced much success. Yet it was, opportunity fell right into her lap. Two months ago she was informed that she had a visitor. Curious, she allowed the prison guards to lead her away, her wrists and ankles in heavy chains. There, seated on the other side of thick, bullet-proof Plexiglass, was a figure of a male she had never seen before.

The figure was strange, ominous. He kept his face mostly hidden beneath a worn baseball cap adorned with the team logo for the Megakat City Thunderbolts and the jacket that he wore sought to conceal any sort of identifying physical characteristics, as it must have been two sizes too big. However, Turmoil was never one to back away from anything out of fear or skepticism. She approached the gentleman with purpose; she didn't want the guards to have the faintest idea that she didn't know who this mystery kat was. Obviously, he had gone through some trouble to see her, she could at least hear what he had to say.

Their conversation was short, hushed and intense. He needed help...only Turmoil could provide it. Why he sought her out and contacted her, she did not quite understand. There were many criminals housed here on this island prison, to choose her out the hundreds who resided here boggled her mind.

"You invented the vertigo beam, did you not?" He had asked.

"Yes, along with many other things..."

"That is why I need your help."

During the past two months, the plot unfurled and his sheer brilliance amazed her. Hope flushed her cheeks as each day passed with fruition. They were kept informed of the other's progress by simply smuggling a small, ordinary-looking key-card back and forth to the other. Usually, a key-card would simply hold a numeric code to gain access to a building, room or warehouse, but the magnetic strip was capable of holding an extensive amount of information.

Turmoil couldn't help but chuckle then. It was almost time. All she had to do was wait.

Elsewhere

Long ago, the shadows befriended him. He felt more at ease in the dark that he did during daylight hours, as if darkness provided him with a protective anonymity. He didn't have to pretend, he could be who he truly was, and right now, he was livid.

"What do you mean he found it!"

"I-I can't explain it to you, boss. But he found the blasted thing and-"

"If you value your life, you will not say the words I think you're about to tell me!"

"I, err, I-I'm sorry...but he has the key."

A powerful fist slammed into wall, causing the plaster to crack, "Now you listen to me very carefully...does he know what's on that key card?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh! You don't think so? You had better hope to whatever holy kats you believe in that he doesn't! Do you have any idea what's on that card? If he finds out the information stored on it...it's all over! It's over for you! It's over for me! And it'll be over for her!"

"Don't worry! I'll get it back!"

"You had better!" The kat shrouded in darkness spat before pausing. Then he continued, "And just in case Agent Laramie does figure anything out...kill him."

In a flash, he hung up the small mobile phone. Picking up his jacket, he draped it around his tall frame, he quickly exited the warehouse and made his way to the gold sedan parked on the street. His anger did not ebb as he settled into the driver's seat, nor did it abate when he started the engine, his ears being enveloped by the roar of the v-6 engine. Shifting into drive, he thought for a moment and heaving a deep sigh, he pondered the new set of circumstances that threatened to destroy his well laid plans.

Perhaps Agent Sammy Laramie's possession of the key wasn't such a bad thing. If he did figure out what was on that card, Laramie would definitely know that someone within the agency was behind such a horrific plot. If that were the case, who could he turn to that he could trust beyond all doubt? There was only one who had earned a name for herself not only for her keen intellect, but also for her straight-as-an-arrow moral character. "Moral Miri", they used to call her in jest. He smiled then, actually finding himself looking forward to pitting his own sharp mind against whom the KBI called their "rising star".

He erupted in laughter then, his sedan passing in front of the mayor's office as a light rain began to fall.


	2. Chapter one

Chapter 1

The blarring screech from the alarm on the clock-radio sliced through the early morning serenity like a lawn mower on a sunday. Groaning in protest, the burly, sand-colored tabby stirred in his bed, fumbling to find the blasted contraption that sat situated on the nightstand. With a heavy thud, the tomkat's large hand crashed down on top of the alarm, silencing it; but it was too late. Sleep had lost the battle to conciousness and Chance Furlong was left lying on his back doing his best to rub the sleep from his eyes. Though his vision still adjusting, Chance caught a glimpse of the digitalized numbers glowing bright red on the front of the small box...six-thirty. Had morning come so soon? His massive frame protested as if he had just slipped into bed an hour ago.

With a deep yawn, he sat up, pulling the blankets from him and stretched his arms, thick with hard muscles, over his head. With another yawn, Chance stood and paced over to the dresser that leaned against the far side of the room. His bedroom was small and in a sort of content disarray typical of bachelorhood: a few dirty socks peppered the hardwood floor, a leather jacket hung hephazardly on chair that sat in front of a desk that was used for storing items of a frivolous nature, rather than writing. Adorning the walls were posters that left no doubt as to where Chance's intrests lay: jets, comics and the fair sex. He had always prided himself on being "uncomplicated". Yet it seemed that the past two years of his life had been anything but uncomplicated.

Self-confident and rather easy-going, with boredom as his only real enemy, Chance had at one time, found success as a pilot for Megakat City's Enforcers; a para-military organization that had long ago absorbed the metropolis' police force. Long ago, as a young kitten, Chance had always dreamed of one day becoming like the heroes that he read about in his comic books. He wanted to be one of the "good guys" in a world rife with crime...and he wanted to do it in the c0ckpit of a jet. As a rookie pilot, the skill he possessed in the air defied textbook logic. Fellow Enforcers began calling him "Maverick" while senior officers downplayed his talent by brushing it off as "hot-shot rookie antics". Teaming up with Jake Clawson, a virtual magician at weapons systems operations, the pair aced training simulations and live drills. It seemed as if both Chance and Jake were going to have a long career with the Enforcers. However, fate, it seemed, had a sense of humor.

Dark Kat was one of Megakat City's most notorious and dangerous criminals. During one of the villain's attempts to destroy Enforcer Headquarters, Chance and Jake were able to damage the rapscallion's weapons systems, leaving Dark Kat vunerable for apprehension. However, before they were able to accomplish that, their senior officer, Commander Ulysses Feral ordered the pair to stand down, allowing him to take Dark Kat into custody. After a short and heated exchange, Commader Feral clipped the wing of their jet with his own and forced Chance and Jake to plummet out of the sky!

"We're out of the game, Chance! We gotta eject!" Jake had yelled over the deafening cacophony of a jet locked in a deadly duel with gravity...a duel which it was losing...fast!

Chance gritted his teeth, "We're not ejecting! I can get her back under control!"

"No you can't! Our stablizers have been damaged! We gotta eject!"

Chance knew Jake was right. Reluctantly, the two ejected out of the aircraft's c0ckpit mere moments before it collided with the new Enforcer Headquarters, causing the building to erupt in flames. The top five floors were lost after the incident. Fire marshalls blamed the highly flamable nature of jet engine fuel. Commander Feral however, blamed Chance and Jake...not only for the loss of the building, but it seemed, Dark Kat had eluded caputre again.

Afterward, they were banned from the Enforcers and were left holding a bill that esentially ended their careers. Feral sent them to work at the Megakat City slavage yard were they were to work until every penny it took to rebuild Enforcer Headquarters had been paid back. Yet with all the abandoned military equiptment that was left under their care, Chance and Jake built a jet of their own, the incomprable Turbokat. At it's helm, the two became the SWAT Kats.Vigilantes both revered and reviled throughout Megakat City.

The double-life suited Chance just fine. He adapted well to the alias, "T-Bone". In fact, it made him feel even more like the heroes he had read about. Jake absorbed the new identity as well, adapting it in a way that allowed him to express himself in ways he'd otherwise feel uncomfortable to do. Unlike Chance, Jake was relatively reserved...quiet. Possessing a keen mind for electronics and invention, Jake usually was content with allowing his partner to take the spotlight. But as "Razor", Jake could be just as free-spirited as his burly counterpart.

After showering, Chance quickly dressed himself and headed downstairs for breakfast. He could tell that Jake had been awake for some time, as the television was on and the bittersweet aroma of coffee percolated throughout the expanse of their meager living quarters. Their apartment was situated directly above their garage where they performed menial tasks of auto-body repair and vehicle maintenance. As such, their living quarters was eternally bound to the faint, underlying odors of engine oils, brake cleaner, and gasoline.

Padding down their narrow hallway, Chance rounded the corner to his right, his socked feet contacting with the cool white tiles of the kitchen floor. He could hear the weatherkat speaking from the television in the next room, in an irritatingly perky voice, about the incessant heatwave Megakat City had been having. "It looks as though this unprecedented heatwave is going to continue, June! We are looking at a high of ninety-eight degrees with a blistering heat index of one hundred and ten! OUCH! Grab that extra water bottle and sunscreen all of you kats and she-kats out there! Stay indoors if you can and crank up that A/C!"

Chance heard Jake groan with displeasure.

"Another hot one, eh, Jake?" Chance called, grabbing an ice-cold can of milk from the fridge and picking up a few doughnuts from the table, Chance headed out to the living room where he saw his best friend, brother-in-arms, and the best weapons systems operator (or WSO) he'd ever worked with, lounging on the worn red couch. Jake Clawson was a stark contrast to Chance. While Chance possessed sand-colored fur with warm brown stripes on his arms and back, Jake was a soft, solid red-brown. While Chance's frame was massive, like a linebacker's, Jake was small and slender. Yet their friendship lept over such contrasts, taking to each other more like brothers than friends.

Jake sighed again, lifing his own can of milk to his lips and taking a swig. "Ya know, I really hate working in this weather. Kats get bent out of shape too easily..." He let his voice trail off, but Chance knew about whom he was speaking.

Yesterday, an eighty-three year old Mrs. Longtail brought in her vehicle with air conditioning problems. And while both Chance and Jake had been happy to help the elderly she-kat at first, they were quickly begining to regret their decision to work on her car. Mrs. Longtail, it seemed, did not understand that working on a vehicle took time and care. She incessently called the shop every hour on the hour and complianed about how long it was taking the two of them to fix her vehicle.

"Mam, every time you call, one of us has to stop working on your car in order to pick up the phone..." Chance had finally said, exasperated with the she-kat's antics.

"It's the heat, Chance..." Jake stated, playing a bit of the devil's advocate.

"No, she's just crazy." Chance had quipped in return.

Taking a seat next to Jake, Chance took a bite from one of the powdered doughnuts that he'd grabbed from the kitchen and grimmaced. "Isn't there anything better on?" He asked, watching the two morning anchors joke with each other stupidly.

Jake shrugged, "Maybe. But they're going to air a segment that I'd really like to catch before we get started on Mrs. Longtail's sedan..."

Chance sighed, finishing off one doughnut, then starting on another. "What about?"

"Puma Dyne apparently, has come up with an invention that is supposed to revolutionize the Enforcers."

Chance was skeptical, "If it's not a device that can retire Commander Feral, then I doubt whatever they've created will revolutionize anything."

Jake chuckled, "That may be, Chance. But I think that you'll be interested in the segment too."

Chance lifted an eyebrow quizzically.

A devious grin spead across Jake's lips, "Two words, Chance: mechanized pilots!"

Before Chance could speak, Jake grabbed the remote and increased the volume on the thirty-seven inch t.v. On the screen behind the pretty anchorwoman was the words: "The Aeromechs: The future of the Enforcers?"

"Megakat City has been the target of nurmerous villains with plots that ranged from turning our beautiful metropolis into a seething swamp to annihlating our city completely. Through it all, the Enforcers and the SWAT Kats have kept us safe. But at what price? How many kats lost their nine lives defending us from these myriad of menaces? What can we do to change that?

"That was the precise question that Dr. Tailburg at Puma Dyne sought to answer. Live at Puma Dyne with Dr. Tailburg and Deputy Mayor Calico Briggs is our own Felicia Furrton...Felicia?"

The screen prompty changed and the image of a lovely young red-head came into focus. Standing to her right was an elderly kat, perhaps in is late fifties wearing a Puma Dyne-issue jumpsuit, which must have been Dr. Tailburg and to her left was the blonde-haired and green-eyed Callie Briggs. "Thank you, June!" The red-head chirpped. She turned to Dr. Tailburg, "Doctor, would you mind explaining to our viewers just how Puma Dyne came upon such a concept as mechanized pilots?"

Dr. Tailburg cleared his throat before answering, "Of course, Felicia. We here at Puma Dyne have ever sought to find the answer to problems that have plauged our fair city. With such criminals as Dark Kat still free to attack Megakat City we began to wonder what we could do to help the law-enforcement professionals like the Enforcers. We saw a few key problems that needed answers: pilot error and pilot deaths. As such, our new Aeromechs will virtually eliminate both problems! Never again will we have to mourn our fallen heroes! Nor will we need to reprimand those who through their own error, allowed dangerous criminals like Dark Kat, Dr. Viper and others to escape!" He paused briefly before he continued, "The Aeromechs are state-of the art atificial intelligence housed in an agricite-alloy based body. They are programed to perform the same arial acrobatics that the top pilots of the Enforcers execute and more!"

"Is it then your hope to _replace _Enforcer pilots with these Aeromechs, then?" Felicia asked.

"Perhaps one day. But as it stands, there are only twelve." The elderly kat grinned sheepishly.

Turning to Callie Briggs Felicia asked, "As a mayoral-funded project, is Megakat City's political office pleased with the results?"

Callie smiled brilliantly, even for nearly seven in the morning, the Deputy Mayor looked ravishing. "Well Felicia, we're happy with the progress that Puma Dyne's Dr. Tailburg has made. However, we at the mayoral office would like to emphisize that these twelve _prototypes _are still in need of further development before they are ready to be used in actual emergency situations."

Chance drew in a breath as the camera panned in for a close-up of Callie. "You gotta admire a she-kat who can look that good this early in the morning."

Jake hissed for Chance to quiet down so he could hear the rest of the segment, though he had to admit, Chance was right. Callie was georgous.

Nodding, Felicia turned to Dr. Tailburg, "When will these Aeromechs be ready for mass production, Doctor?"

"Not for another year, I'm afriad. There are still some bugs to work out and virtual flight simulators to put them through their paces..." His voice trailed off and Felicia took that opportunity to turn her attention back to Callie, "Ms. Briggs, final thought?"

Callie nodded, "When these Aeromechs are complete, we hope to spare our heroes from such life-threatening situations brought upon them by the likes of the Pastmaster, Hard Drive, or Dark Kat!"

Satisfied, Felicia focused on the camera, "Back to you, June!"

The television screen went black as Jake depressed the power button on the remote, "Looks like you're out of a job there, buddy!" He chided.

Chance grimmaced. Standing to his feet, he paced over to his work boots and laced them on, "No way! I don't care what programs Puma Dyne installed on those tin cans! You can not replace pilot experience or sheer skill!"

Jake chuckled, "I dunno Chance...I might have to find myself a new pilot when those Aeromechs are given the 'green light'!"

Chance returned Jake's words with a baleful look. "Let's just get Mrs. Longtail's car outta our garage today!"


	3. Chapter two

Chapter 2

(author's note: both I-80 and the "Ryan" (or Dan Ryan) are expressways found in Illinois...)

The mid-morning sun bore down on the expressway opressively with it's unbearable heat. At only eleven o'clock the tempurature was already a searing ninety-seven degrees, coupling with the almost claustrophobia-inducing humidity, no kat or she-kat in their right mind went without their air conditioning system on full blast. One such she-kat was returning from an archaeological confrence down state. Zipping in and out of traffic, the massive, red SUV plowed down the interstate, making it's way back to Megakat City.

Miriam Lynx was in a good mood. She had attended the confrence as a "guest of honor" and was welcomed on the National Archaeological Academics panel. Not that Miriam was an archaeologist, far from it. She spent her days as a small business owner and antiques dealer. However, it was Miriam's late husband, Dr. Arthur Lynx who held the mind for history and actually possessed a educator's residency at the Megakat City Museum of Natural History. Yet, Dr. Lynx had made great strides concerning the topic that caused the NAA to gather over the weekend. Katlantis. The mere mention of the name caused an earthquake in the academic community. Did it exsist? Was it pure fiction? Or, was it a mix of both? Were the works of Klato to be taken as literal or figurative?

Initially, when Miriam had received the invitation in the mail, she couldn't fathom what she could offer to such a debate. However, it was in that same weekend that she came across her late husband's academic journal that caused her to travel in his stead. Inside the leather-bound tome were maps, drawings of sculptures and paintings that had adorned the walls of ancient tombs. Miriam flipped through the pages, smiling wistfully as the memories of her Artie came back to her. The trips he had to take, the archaeological digs he had to lead, the small adventures that he would insist that she attend. She had seen a lot of the world that way, traveling with her husband. Turning one of the worn pages, she came across his last entry before he fell ill. In it he stated that he had found a suprising tablet with an ancient inscription in a language that he had never seen and to ensure it's safety, he had the tablet hidden away. With that information, she decided that not only would Artie attend, were he still alive, but that in finding this last journal entry, it was his way of asking her to go in his stead.

Her weekend having been surrounded by her husband's former peers was informative and an educational experience. If she were frank, she'd say that she wouldn't have expected to have had such a good time. While on the panel, she was treated with defrence and respect, the other academics knowing and understanding that while Dr. Lynx's widow was not an archaeologist herself, she still possessed some knowledge into her husband's work. So it was that she had woke up this morning, pleased with her decision to make the two hour drive down state and promised herself that she would return next year.

Passing an elderly couple in a green sedan, Miriam zipped through traffic with the icy-cold A/C on full blast. Like invisible fingers, the force of the air conditioning system, danced through her chocolate-hued tresses, exposing the soft, feminine contours of her face. Her large, youthful eyes were encircled with a natural, smokey-brown band of color, giving the impression of eyeshadow and providing a dramatic contrast to the swimming-pool blue of her eyes. Her cherub-like pout was perfected with the smallest hint of color from her pink lipgloss. Her fur was a soft fawn in color, almost white, with contrasting chocolate markings on her arms, legs and on the tip of her tail. Her father, Chien had always teased her saying that when she was a kitten, he had simply dipped her into a vat of the sinfully warm and sweet brown dessert. Truth to be told, Miriam inherited her fur color and eye color from her grandmother, Ming who was a Siamese.

The sultry voice of jazz songstess Ella Katsgerald soared over the notes that eminated from Miriam's radio. Softly, Miriam sang along to the song that told the tale of a broken-hearted femme who was happy to see the kat who had broken her heart, had his heart broken in the same manner. The ringing of a phone promptly caused Miriam to turn down the volume on her radio and pull out her small mobile phone from her purse that sat beside her in the passanger seat. Depressing a button on the side of the phone caused the device to spring open, "Lynx."

"Mrs. Lynx? It's Ann Gora from Kats Eye News, how are you this morning?"

Miriam smiled, "I'm fine Ann. How are you?"

"I'm well, thank-you. Listen, the reason why I was calling is because I wanted to confirm that you were going to be here this morning for our interview. I'm really interested in the confrence that you visited concerning Katlantis. I've heard through the grapevine, of sorts, that your late husband discovered something of great archaeolgical significance?"

Miriam couldn't help but chuckle. There were times when Ann Gora's skills as a reporter stunned her, "Yeah. My husband found a tablet with some sort of ancient writing on it. I'll be able to make it Ann, though, for a second I was worried if I'd make it on time. Coming from down state, I erronously took I-80-"

Ann groaned, "How bad was it?"

For the past few months, interstate 80 was under heavy contruction and it was deeply reflected in the travel time, "It was a virtual parking lot, Ann!" Miriam chuckled and Ann couldn't help but chuckle too.

"Well you're on your way now, right?"

"Yeah, I'm heading up the Ryan right now...I can even catch the faint outline of our fair metropolis! I'd say I'd have maybe another half hour-fourty five minutes...if traffic holds up."

"Very good, Mrs. Lynx. I'll see you soon then!"

After Miriam bid the reporter farewell, she hung up the phone and tossed it onto the passanger seat beside her. Yes, Miriam thought, things were going rather well for her. She turned the volume up on the radio and once again began to sing along with Ella. So distracted by her own thoughts, Miriam didn't notice the steam that began to rise from the hood of her 4X4. Soon, steam poured out of her hood and over her car as thick as smoke!

"Oh my lord!" Miriam cried as she quickly pulled her car over on the side of the road. The massive vehicle groaned in protest then came to a studdering halt.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Quickly unfastening her seatbelt, she opened her diver's door and leapt down to the scorching pavement, her high-heeled sandals klick-clacking around to the front of the car. Even though the engine had died, steam still poured out of vehicle. Miriam began to message her temples, "This can't be happening...this can't be happening...! Okay, get a hold of yourself Miri! You have a mobile phone, call for help...then call Ann!"

Miriam rounded to the left of the SUV to the passanger door, unlocked it and grabbed the phone on the seat. She opened the glove compartment and withdrew a sheet of paper with a myriad of phone numbers typed on it. Glancing over the list, she quickly found what she needed: roadside assistance. Dialing the eight-hundred number, she waited for someone to answer on the other end, "Hello? Yes, umm, my name is Miriam Lynx and I've stalled on the side of the road going north-bound on the Ryan expressway..."

Jake and Chance watched blissfully as Mrs. Longtail pulled out of their garage and drove out of the salvage yard. "I thought she'd never leave..." Chance remarked.

"She sure did give us a piece of her mind..."Jake started to chuckle remembering the tirade the elderly she-kat went on when she came in to pick up her car.

"What was left of her mind anyway." Chance quipped. "I'm gonna get some milk, you want anything?" Chance asked, as he turned and made his way toward the rear of their shop.

"Milk is fine." Jake stated, "Thanks." Sighing, Jake made his way into the waiting room and sat on the couch, absorbing the cool air conditioning, his mechanic's uniform damp with his own sweat. Unfortuantely, like most other vehicle repair shops, their garage was not air conditioned. It wasn't economical to do so when the garage doors would constantly open and shut which made working in such conditions nearly unbearable...and exhausting.

Chance soon arrived with two cans of ice-cold milk. Tossing a can to Jake, Chance popped his open with a swift puncture from the claw on his index finger, Jake did the same. Sitting down next to each other, they sat in the silence that often was the result of uncomfortable heat and exhaustion. Unable to move, neither made an attempt to turn on the t.v., they simply sat and sipped on their cans.

Jake removed his red cap and leaned his head back into the couch, closing his eyes. It was nearly noon, and while that would usually mean lunchtime for the two of them, Jake thought that perhaps his lunch hour should be spent taking a nap. Chance too, seemed to share the idea, stiffeling a yawn, the burly kat stretched out, propping his large feet upon the coffe table, wrinkling a few magazines.

With a shrill ring, their business phone sprung to life. Both Chance and Jake groaned in displeasure. "We're on lunch!"

Jake reluctantly looked at the clock on the wall, "Not for another three minutes we're not."

Chance sighed, "Would you mind getting that, Jake?"

"You're closer, buddy!"

Groaning, Chance got to his feet and paced over to the office in the garage. With a tired sigh he picked up the phone, "Jake and Chance's body work and all repairs...this is Chance." He listened as the kat on the other end of the phone explained the situation. "Alright, we'll pick her up. Where is she? The Ryan...northbound near the exit on 95th? Alright. What kind of vehicle is it? A red Land Comber? Okay, you can call her back and tell her we'll be there in about fifteen-twenty minutes."

After hanging up the phone, Chance crossed the expanse of the garage, back into the waiting room. "Looks like we're taking a late lunch today, Jake."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"That was Triple A, they have a member stuck on the Ryan...a Miriam Lynx and she needs a tow."

Jake sighed, finished his milk with one last swig and stood. "Well, let's go then." Then after a moment, "At least we're picking up a girl!"


End file.
